But I Think I'll Be Alright
by guylinergirl
Summary: Title from "Candles" by Hey Monday. The storyline for this was the brainchild of being bored after a standardized test. KurtxBlaine, Takes place in 2x16, somewhere between the Kliss and Regionals. Very fluffy, lots of hurt/comfort. Hope you enjoy! :


Blaine was brimming with joy as he made his way home. Ignoring the rather morbid overcast of clouds that hung in the sky above him, he couldn't help but smile as he walked through his neighborhood. He felt like he was in one of those movies, where the hero parades down the street, feeling as if nothing can bring them down. All that was missing was a spontaneous dance routine to a Hall & Oates song. It might have seemed silly, but he felt like he was invincible. And he had every reason to be.

_I kissed him. _He thought to himself. _I can't believe it. I actually kissed him. _

He was still smiling as he approached his house. He pulled the house key from his pocket and entered the house. He was welcomed by the usual wild echo coming from the TV.

"And it's going…going…it's gone! Ladies and gentlemen, that ball is out of here!" The baseball announcer shouted.

Blaine made his way into the living room, passing the rows of framed pictures that lined the hallway. They weren't pictures of Blaine or of their family, though. They were all sports memorabilia, pictures of athletes that Blaine's dad had never actually met. For some reason, it always made Blaine feel…awkward. Like this was never truly his house.

He found his father on the couch, his eyes glued to the game of baseball unfolding on the TV before him. This was usually where Blaine found his dad when he got home from school every day.

"Hi, Dad."

His dad acknowledged him with a wave of his hand. "Hey." He replied quickly, his attention still on the TV. "Come sit down. It's the bottom of the ninth, and the Browns have this thing in the bag."

Blaine placed his book bag on the counter. "No thanks, Dad. I'm good." He wasn't really much of a baseball fan anyway. He had liked it when he was a little kid, but now he just found it pointless.

"You sure?" His gaze remained on the TV, which was showing some advertisement for blue jeans. "How was school?"

Blaine paused for a second. _School. What even happened at school today, anyway?_ Blaine couldn't remember anything. Well, anything that hasn't involved Kurt.

"School was good, Dad." He answered with a shrug.

"And that choir thing you always are at after school…what's it called again? The Wombats? The Whoppers?"

"Warblers, Dad." Blaine replied, correcting him for what felt like the millionth time. "We're called the Warblers." He took a seat in the leather armchair adjacent from where his dad sat.

"Yeah…okay. Whatever. Anything interesting happen there?" Blaine paused for a second. _Should I…? No, I don't think I should. You know how he gets about these things…_ He eyed the twelve-pack of beer on the coffee table. _Especially like this._

_But then again, it's not like I can keep Kurt from him for much longer. And hey, a dad should be happy for his kid once and a while._

He paused, hoping that his dad hadn't noticed him spacing out. Thankfully, his dad remained transfixed on the batter of the opposing team stepping up to plate. He smiled. "It went great, Dad. Kurt and I came up with this fantastic new duet for Regionals."

His dad cracked open another bottle and took a swig from it. "Kurt? Who's Kurt? Some friend of yours?"

"I guess you could call him that."

His dad paused. "Now, this 'duet' you're talking about…that means you and this kid are singing…_together_?"

Blaine chuckled. "That's kind of the definition of a duet, Dad."

His dad shook his head. "It just seems weird, two guys singing to each other…"

"Well, Kurt and I have every right to sing together…"

Blaine's father glanced warily at him. "Why?"

Blaine paused, regret filling his mind. "Just…never mind. Just forget it."

"What?"

"It's nothing…just forget about it."

His dad's tired brown eyes met Blaine's. "Don't you lie to me, Blaine."

Blaine shifted in his chair. "I…I like Kurt, Dad. I really do. And today…something special happened between us."

"Wh…what are you implying here, Blaine?" His father said with a glare.

Blaine sighed, getting up from his chair. "We…we kissed, okay? Kurt and I kissed."

His father tensed up. "You have got to be kidding me."

"I'm not, Dad." He stood up. "We kissed. And you know what? It was perfect. Absolutely perfect."

His father stood up as well, rubbing his fingers to his temple. "You…you can't be serious. Stop saying such crap, Blaine."

Blaine paused. As much as he expected this reaction, it still left him a little distraught. "Dad…"

"All of this nonsense of 'It was perfect!' and 'I really like him!' It's all just a bunch of nonsense. Two dudes kissing each other can't be 'perfect', Blaine. It's just sick."

Blaine glanced at his feet. "But Dad, this is how I feel. I'm not interested in some dim-witted girl. I'm interested in Kurt. Heck, I think I love Kurt. And all I ask is that you be happy for me."

"Don't you stand there and tell me you're in love with a guy, Blaine. You…you can't be. I sure as hell didn't raise some queer."

Blaine froze. "Dad, please." He pleaded. "This…this is who I am. Please just accept me for that."

"This is _not_ who you are okay?" His dad said, his voice escalating. "This is just a phase. All of this. You think you know who you are, with your shiny shoes and your gelled hair and everything. You think it's all okay. That you can make out with a guy, that it's just a normal occurrence. Well, it's not. And I'm waiting for the day when you realize that. You're nothing more than a selfish, ridiculous, stupid little faggot."

And with that, Blaine was welcomed by the back of his father's hand against his face. He winced. This wasn't the first time he'd felt this, but that didn't mean that it didn't hurt. "Dad…please."

Blaine's father grabbed his chin, looking right into his eyes. "Get out of my house."

Tears started to well up in Blaine's eyes. He was sick of this. Of pretending, of lying, of covering up scars and bruises.

He thought of Kurt. The image of his perfect, sincere face filled Blaine's head. He could never bring Kurt home to "meet the family." This wasn't even home, anyway. This hadn't felt like home since his mom had left.

He didn't need this. He didn't have to pretend that this wasn't happening. He didn't have to live a separate life behind closed doors. He deserved better. "Fine." He whispered. "I will. Anything to get away from you…You're not my father. You're an alcoholic…an ignorant, small minded homophobe."

Blaine grabbed his book bag and stormed out of the house.…

* * *

><p>And so Blaine walked. It may have seemed impractical, walking aimlessly for what felt like hours. But Blaine knew exactly where he could go - the one place he hoped he would find comfort in.<p>

There was just one problem.

Well, multiple problems, actually.

First off, it had started to rain. And not just a little drizzle, but buckets and buckets, pouring down senselessly the entire way there. Blaine's Dalton uniform became absolutely soaked, and his previously diligently-gelled hair quickly deflated.

To make things worse, no one seemed to be eager to pick up a dripping wet teenage hitch-hiker. Blaine had never thought that he would resort to hitch-hiking, but desperate times called for really desperate measures. So he stuck out his thumb, in hopes of a nice, warm, upholstered ride to his destination. But he was turned down again and again, as every passing car sped on by without as much as a glance.

So he gave up on hitch-hiking, glumly continuing on. _This has to be karma. _He thought to himself. _Just really bad karma._

A faint smile only appeared on his face when he realized that he'd reached his destination. By then, night had fallen, but the rain had continued to pour. He walked up to the house, finding shelter from the rain on the porch. He sighed and knocked on the door. Putting his hands in his pockets, he waited until someone finally answered the door.

It was Kurt, who had changed out of his uniform and into a grey sweater and a pair of dark jeans. Blaine couldn't lie - his boyfriend looked beautiful, while he himself probably resembled a wet dog.

Kurt gasped, his eyes traveling up and down Blaine's drenched body. "Oh my god…Blaine?"

It was then that Blaine absolutely lost it. He'd been fighting back tears the entire trip over, but seeing Kurt in front of him was the breaking point. He pressed himself against Kurt, resting his head on the taller boy's shoulder, and sobbed.

Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine. "What…what happened to you?"

Blaine sniffled. "It's a long story."

Kurt looked into his boyfriend's eyes. "I have all the time in the world. Now come on, let's get you out of this weather." He grasped tightly onto Blaine's hand and led him inside, much like Blaine had on the day they'd first met.

As they stepped inside the house, Blaine could soon hear other voices; Kurt's dad and Finn's mom. "Kurt? Honey? Who was that at the door."

"It's Blaine." Kurt answered, stopping in the middle of the hallway. "He…well, just come here."

Regardless of the fact that he'd met Kurt's parents before, Blaine knew that this wasn't exactly the ideal 'first-impression-as-your-son's-boyfriend'. But then again, nothing about this night had exactly been 'ideal'.

But Kurt's parents certainly didn't seem to care. As they turned the corner and found their son's boyfriend in the middle of the hallway, clothing soaked and tears welling up in his eyes, he was welcomed with open arms.

"Oh my god." Carole exclaimed.

"What the hell happened to you, kid?" Burt asked.

"Here," Carole said, guiding Blaine to the couch before he could even think of an answer. "Sit down."

Blaine took a seat on the couch; Kurt on his right, and Burt and Carole on this left. "Now, tell us what happened."

Blaine sighed. That seemed like a simple enough task. "Well," He began. "I…I walked all the way here. That's why I'm all wet."

"Why?" Kurt asked. "Couldn't you have gotten your dad to drive you here?"

Blaine bit his lip, the thought of his dad making its way back into Blaine's head. "Not exactly."

Just then, Finn made his way down the staircase, glancing at the group on the couch. "What's going on?" He asked cautiously.

The party on the couch remained silent, because they truthfully weren't quite sure what _was_ going on.

He noticed Blaine. "Woah, Blaine. You…you look like hell."

"Finn!" Carole scolded. "He's been through a really rough night."

"Sorry," Finn said apologetically, taking a seat on the armchair next to Burt. "What happened to you, bro?"

Kurt placed his hand on Blaine's cheek, right where his dad had slapped him. Blaine winced, the side of his face still sore, even with Kurt's gentle fingers touching it.

"What happened to your face?" Kurt gasped. "It…it's all red."

Blaine took Kurt's hand down from his face, intertwining their fingers. He glanced from Kurt to Kurt's family, and then back again.

He let out a sigh and began to tell his story. Of the past eight years that he'd lived alone with his dad, but mainly of this afternoon. He told every single detail, trying to fight back tears as he found the words to describe it.

Kurt's family gasped, while Kurt was just…frozen.

"Why?" Kurt stammered. "Why would he hit you?"

Blaine met his boyfriend's gaze. "Because he doesn't approve of me, of…" He gently squeezed Kurt's hand. "…of us. He…he hit me, and then he kicked me out. That's why I walked here - this was the safest place that I could think of."

Blaine felt Carole's hand on his shoulders. "You poor thing…" She said sympathetically. "I am so, so sorry."

Burt got up off of the couch, pacing back and forth in front of them. "That is just _sick_. I can't believe that someone would do that to their own son…"

"So you mean that he's hit you before?" Kurt asked, the expression on his face hinting that he didn't really want to know the answer.

Blaine glanced at his feet. "Yeah, he has. Mainly it's when he's drunk. He get's really…angry, and kind of irrational. I've kind of gotten used to it."

Burt pressed his fingers against his temple. "I just…I don't understand. How could a father do that to his son? If I ever meet him, I swear to God…"

"Burt, please." Carole said to her husband. She turned to Blaine. "The important thing is that you're here now. And you're nothing but safe here. You're more than welcome to stay for as long as you need to."

Blaine smiled. This was the first good thing he heard all night. "Thank you so much, Mrs. Hummel."

"Oh, please. Call me Carole." She said with a smile. "Now, I'll bet that you want to change out of your wet clothes." She turned to her older son. "Finn, will you go find something that Blaine can wear?"

Blaine turned to Kurt, who rested his hand on Blaine's knee and smiled. "Welcome to the family, Blaine."….

* * *

><p>Blaine smiled as he set his book bag on the carpeted floor. He glanced around the Hummel's guest room, and he couldn't help but chuckle. Kurt had to have designed this room - everything was bathed in an array of creams and browns.<p>

He tugged at the waistband of his red flannel pajama pants. Or, well, they were _Finn's _red flannel pajama pants, along with the grey McKinley High football t-shirt. The entire outfit was a little big for Blaine's liking, but he didn't really care. It felt much nicer than his soaking wet Dalton uniform, which Carole promised to send off to the cleaners in the morning.

Blaine's train of though was interrupted by a gentle knock on the door. He spun around to find Kurt, dressed in dark blue pajama pants and a faded Lady Gaga t-shirt.

"Nice ensemble." Kurt said with a smile.

"Speak for yourself." Blaine chuckled. "I always pictured you as more of the silk pajamas type."

Kurt sighed. "Today has certainly been a crazy day, huh?" He reached for Blaine's hand, which he was more than happy to take.

Blaine gently squeezed Kurt's fingers. "No kidding."

Kurt looked into Blaine's eyes. "I'm really sorry, you know. About what happened with your dad."

"Oh," Blaine said with a shrug. "It's alright. That's just how he is."

"No, really. I'm sorry. I just…I'd always seen you as someone who was confident and strong…I had no idea that you were going through something like that."

"I was too ashamed to tell anyone. I would do nearly anything to cover it up. It basically became normal for me for him to act like that."

Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine. "Believe me, Blaine, you deserve better. Hell, you deserve the entire world. You of all people should have someone who cares about you, who wants nothing but the best for you."

Blaine smiled. "I think I might have that now. I mean, I have you, and your family…you guys are the most genuine people I've ever met. I feel safe here."

Kurt planted a kiss on Blaine's forehead. "Well then, we're happy to help."

"So, I can really stay for a while?"

Kurt smiled. "As long as you need. Which will hopefully be a while, because I really like the idea of you staying here."

Blaine gently rested his head on Kurt's shoulder. "Thank you, Kurt. For everything. I don't know what I'd do if I didn't have you. I love you."

Kurt smiled as he leaned towards Blaine. Their lips met and it felt heavenly. Granted, it wasn't like the make-out session they'd had earlier that day. But it was a simple, lovely, perfect kiss. And it was exactly what Blaine needed.

Kurt broke away and smiled. "I…I love you too."

They stood there, Kurt cradling Blaine in his arms. And for the first time in forever, Blaine didn't have a care in the world. He felt like he was finally home.


End file.
